


Smoking Guns

by Valpoet



Series: Blindspot AU [3]
Category: Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles (TV 2003), Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Anxiety, Blind Character, Blindspot!AU, Depression, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Post-Same As It Never Was, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, References to Depression, Slice of Life, Swearing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-07
Updated: 2019-01-07
Packaged: 2019-10-06 01:04:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,270
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17335745
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Valpoet/pseuds/Valpoet
Summary: Same as it Never Was divergent - in a world where by miracle alone the brothers survive and Donatello came back from "Purgatory".This is a series of various oneshots, drabbles, and snippets from an alternate ALTERNATE universe in which Leonardo is blind, Donatello is guilt stricken, Michelangelo is learning to forgive, and Raphael is learning how to cast aside his anger in favour of loving his brothers.Raph could really use a smoke right about now. He could also use some time to get out of his own head.





	Smoking Guns

**Author's Note:**

> Edit: This shot has been edited because I was unhappy with its initial ending. I like this one much better. It's only very minor changes that doesn't take away from the overall narrative, so I hope you enjoy.

 

What he wouldn't give for a goddamn smoke right now.

_Thud. Thudthud. Thud. Thudthudthud. Slam._

Wipe the sweat, grit the teeth, go at it again. The sandbag swings, and is still there so he just ain't hitting it fucking hard _enough_. Gotta get it out. Gotta get it _out_.

_"Yer a goddamned coward, Leo! Always fuckin' **runnin'**! Own up to it!"_

Raph growls and slams his fist down hard, knuckles crack, but it's still there and still swinging. He bounces a little on the balls of his feet, eye flaring and the tears are there, but he ain't cryin' because he ain't done yet.

Gotta get it out. Gottagetitout. Gotta get it  _ out _ !

_ Leo stares through him, unmoving, but heaving and angry.  **Good** . But Raph ain't done yet. Raph ain't never done yet. They've lost so much and it Leo's fucking fault. It's  **Leo's** fault. Splinter is  **gone** , dead, and Donnie- _

_ "It's your fuckin' fault Splinter's gone cuz you gave up on him, Leo! You gave up on him! Just like you gave up on Donnie! We coulda saved them and now they're both  **dead** because of  **you** !" _

_Blink. Gone. Leo. Gone. Raph can't take it back even if he wants to._

The sand spills forth and Raph blinks, a tear slipping down and he wipes it quickly. Better.  _ Better _ .

But not done. It's never gonna be done. He can never really take it back, he knows this.

Shit, he needs a smoke. What time is it? When the fuck is Don gonna get around to putting a damn clock in here?

"Shit, that ain't fair, the guy's dealin' with enough as it is..." Raph curses himself because that's easy to do; he's gotta stop this blame game that comes so goddamn natural.

He won't hurt his family anymore.

"...are you done talking to yourself yet?"

Raph almost decks Mikey in his goddamn fucking face, but barely manages to stifle it with a fist at his side instead. To his credit, Mike doesn't even twitch and instead looks like he's about to laugh for scaring the shell off his older brother. The prick.

"Don't  _ do _ that when I'm punchin' shit, Mike." Raph manages to get out, trying his damndest to sound level, but it's fucking hard because what  _ if _ he  _ did _ hit Mike? 

Raph has a lot of shit to be fucking angry at himself about, but that would take the fucking cake right now.

"You weren't punching anything for five whole seconds, Raph. Figured you were fair game at this point."

Raph huffs in response because after  _ everything _ , Mikey still knows how to be a fucking little shit. It's like he purposely eggs him on. He can't do that. He shouldn't do that. What if Raph loses it and decks him for  _ real _ next time? 

The smile fades from Mike's face to the point where Raph notices that maybe the silence has gone on too long. Maybe Mike expects an actual comeback here.

"Y- yeah, yer right. Sorry." Shit, why's he gotta sound so fucking shaken like this?

What's gotten into him today? Fuck, he needs a goddamn smoke. He wishes Don didn't burn them all, the motherfucker.

"Leo up yet? " Raph decides to burst out with and maybe it's sudden and maybe it's a fucking stupid ass question, because  _ duh _ , if he and Mikey are up, then Leo was up before both their asses.

Some things don't change, even with fucking time and hurt. Raph is still learning this. Just like he's learning to be better so he doesn't hurt his family anymore.

"What kind of dumb question is  _ that _ ? Leo's been up for, like, four hours. It's eleven in the morning."

"Is it? Fuck. I've just been thinking of goddamn smokes for three hours, then."

"Good thing Don got rid of them, then." Mike doesn't miss a beat because this fucker has no sympathy for Raph's need for some old fashioned fucking nicotine.

"Fuck you."

"Not in a million years, Raphie-boy."

Raph takes a half hearted swing at Mikey at  _ best _ because they both know even with a metal arm, Raph's too fucking tired and out of breath for this shit. Consequences of quitting smoking. Raph hates Don for this one. 

He stops and hates how he needs to struggle to catch his breath and hates how Mike has this air of faint indifference, but  _ slight _ concern. It's like nothing's changed and everything's changed and Raph doesn't know how to fucking fix it.

"When's breakfast?" He asks, wiping his forehead of sweat and trying to not sound like he's fucking hacking up a goddamned lung.

"Breakfast is four hours ago, but you can try to help with lunch if you can remember how to breathe." A pointed look towards Raph's gut; another byproduct of fucking  _ quitting smoking _ .

"Fuck off. Seriously? Only you an' Leo are awake that goddamned early."

"Snooze you lose. Offer of helping with lunch still stands."

And they both know that Raph is absolute  _ shit _ in the kitchen. Almost as bad as Leo, but with a slightly better chance of breaking plates instead of setting the oven on fire if left unattended. 

"Right. Sure. I'll help." Because Raph can use the distraction and Raph could also use something to fucking eat because goddamn it he's fucking hungry.

Mike looks amused and for a second it's almost like he can see into Raph's soul, but it's only a moment and Raph can only shudder a little. The honest truth is that Raph is having a bad day; Raph knows this and Mike probably knows this too. It ain't hard, but pride keeps Raph from saying it. Pride and knowing it's his own fucking fault. All of this is his fault. If he'd been able to control his fucking temper way back then, Leo never woulda left and if Leo never woulda left-

"Earth to Raphie ~" Knocking of metal knuckles against his forehead; not hard, but enough to bring Raph to reality again instead of his fucked up brain hole.

"Anyone in there? No? Nothing's changed then. Come on, if you're going to help me, you might as well  _ help _ instead of standing around like a musclehead." 

"I  _ ain't _ a musclehead." But Raph  _ does _ follow Mike's lead, because though jokes these days are more common than they used to be, they're still guarded.

Raph takes responsibility for this. He knows Leo does too, more than Leo really  _ should _ since they all know that it was Raph who pushed him away. It was Raph who pushed Leo away and made him leave. And with Leo gone, no one kept Raph in place. So Raph left Mikey. Mikey was abandoned and alone. Who can blame him for being colder? Harder? The fact he can joke at all, or is willing to, is a fucking miracle.

The only thing Raph is really good at is punching shit and being angry. The other stuff he has to relearn.

_**Shit I need a goddamn fucking smoke.** _

In the kitchen, Mike shoves a knife in his hand and tells him to cut shit. Raph can cut shit. So he does.

Leo is minding his own business at the table, sipping on tea and looking like he's fucking brooding again. What else is fucking new. Of course Raph would like to fucking knock him out of it. He's half tempted to fucking toss a goddamn carrot at the motherfucker's head, but Mike gives him this  _ look _ so he doesn't.

Mikey's gotten really fucking good at telling what they're all thinking sometimes, but Raph really isn't any better at telling what  _ Mikey _ is thinking. He should know. He's not the one Mikey used to go to or anything when it came to shit, that was always Don, but...

_Shatter._

_**Shit.** _

"Keep breaking plates and I'll think you're trying to break some kind of plate smashing record." Mike points out dryly.

Raph huffs, grabs the broom and sweeps. Like he's done three other times by this point. Honestly, fucking honestly. You'd think he wasn't a fucking ninja or anything with the amount of goddamn fucking plates he's broken in this time period. He's also probably shoved more fucking carrots in his mouth than he should have, but whatever. It's for eating anyway and he doesn't care and if Mike notices, he ain't saying nothing. Which is just fine by him. 

But it's three brothers in the kitchen. One dictating to the another what to do and  _ another _ one sulking at the kitchen table over a mug of cooling tea (Raph refills it a few times just to see if Leo notices; he always does and always mutters a quiet thanks and Raph feels fucking like shit all over again for how he's been in the past, but  _ fuck _ he's gotta stop thinking about it). 

It's past noon by the time Don trudges his way in. Don doesn't acknowledge any of them. He's just there. In body. Looking ragged and pale and  _ tired _ like he always does. 

Another nightmare then. Raph  _ wants _ to reach out and say something, but he doesn't because Don just wants his fucking coffee like Raph wants a fucking smoke. Getting between Don and coffee is way worse because you never  _ know _ what this fucker will do about it. Like dump out a month's supply of fucking smokes in revenge. Or spike your soda with laxative. 

"Watch this." Mike whispers suddenly and Raph blinks, staring at him as he plates up the food and tosses it like a fucking frisbee at Leo's head.

"Alright, Leo, lunch is up. Stop brooding and eat." It's not a request, it's an order and they all obey those when they come from Mike because it means fucking business.

Besides, it ain't anything fucking new when Leo catches the plate. Blind as a fucking bat, Leo still has fucking senses to rival one of those rodent fuckers as well. The corner of his eye, Raph catches how Don downs a cup of coffee in one swallow and turns.

Shit, motherfucker is running for it.

So, he reaches out and grabs him so he can't. Don can't keep skipping meals. He'll let himself waste away if he fucking could. Raph doesn't grab him hard. Just enough. He can feel the tense muscle beneath his hand and hear how Don struggles to breathe.

_**A real bad one, eh, Brainiac?** _

He doesn't say it because he doesn't fucking have to. Don has his reasons for being this way. They just gotta make sure they look after him, is all. Raph can do that. Raph can look after him.

" You too, Don. Don't think yer running back to the lab when we ain't seen ya all day. Mike an' I  _ actually  _ worked together on this one." 

"It's true." Leo finally fucking finds his voice now, it seems and Raph is a bit relieved because now shit can warm up in here and everyone can start not being fucking miserable (including himself).

"Raph only broke four dishes today."

If it wasn't for the fact that Raph is fucking refilling this asshole's fucking mug right now , he fucking swears to fucking God that he'd-

Shit, breathe, calm. He wishes he had a fucking smoke right now, for fuck sakes. That'd calm him down. Food will just have to do for the moment. He'll work out after. Well, after food and after making sure Don doesn't fucking hole himself away like he always does. Maybe they can do something fun after, now that he thinks about it. Like cards or something. Shit, he sounds so fucking _old_.

"How'd ya even – you know what? Not even gonna ask." But what he  _ will _ do is fucking make Leo's ears bleed with purposeful fucking chair scraping because everyone knows the fearless fucking leader hates that shit.

Raph grins as he does it, watching Leo give the faintest cringe gives him some sick satisfaction. Petty? Maybe. Raph doesn't give a flying fuck about it, though.

"Ya blind bastard."

They're all plated and they're all going to be eating together, though, which is pretty fucking nice. A look over to his left and Raph can see Mike gave Don something simple to eat because they all know Don struggles. He doesn't say it, but he doesn't hide it neither. The way he's the first to leave the table and the last to sit at one tells it all. Don's appetite is in the downward spiral and they gotta keep him fed and healthy because otherwise he'll wither away before them.

They lost him once and they won't lose him again.

But there's a twitch to his right and he can see the grin on Leo's face and for a moment he's fucking confused as shit before the spew that comes out of this fucker's mouth and Raph really wonders how he puts up with all their shit.

Raph knows that look and as much as it fucking irritates the hell out him that Leo can come up with some of this shit on the fly, he's gotta appreciate the guy's doing his goddamn best too.

So, when Leo says his stupid ass joke ("You weren't in my blindspot", really? What the fuck is that shit?) Raph groans because he's fucking obligated to at this point, _especially_ when Leofuckingnardo looks so goddamn proud of himself. Even Don is fucking groaning, the life being slowly breathed back into him as he comes away from it all with a stupid grin. Shit, that's pretty fucking nice to see right now.

Okay, yeah, maybe he doesn't need that smoke so bad after all.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Raph swears like a sailor. Whoever can count the swears gets a cookie. I lost track after two and couldn't be bothered to keep up after that.  
> This is my first time ever writing 2003 Raphael and I love him, I do. I want to do him justice so I hope I've done well.


End file.
